


And I Won't Tell 'Em Your Name

by bella8876



Series: 30 days of Sterek drabbles [26]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Hale Family Feels, M/M, Magic!Mama Stilinski, Magic!Stiles, Mama Stilinski Feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-14
Updated: 2013-04-14
Packaged: 2017-12-08 11:11:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/760686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bella8876/pseuds/bella8876
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As much as he knew they needed to do this, as much as he actually wanted Stiles to do this, he was still scared.  The last time he’d let a human have that kind of power over him, he’d lost everything.  But that wasn’t what scared him, he knew Stiles wasn’t Kate, knew he would never do to Derek what Kate did.  What scared him, what really scared him, was that he wasn’t scared.  The idea of Stiles knowing his true name, having the power to control Derek , completely, right at his fingertips, didn’t even phase Derek.</p>
            </blockquote>





	And I Won't Tell 'Em Your Name

**Author's Note:**

> Day 26 of 30 Days of Sterek!
> 
> Prompt Picture Credit: [jemmynen.deviantart.com](http://jemmynen.deviantart.com/art/I-HAVE-YOUR-SOUL-341628057)

“Are you sure?” Stiles asked leaning against the counter. 

“If Deucalion gets to me, we need to be able to break his hold,” Derek said. “ _Someone_ needs to know.” 

Stiles nodded, picking at the edge of the counter. “And we’re sure that someone has to be me?” 

Derek looked up at him and narrowed his gaze, “This was your idea.” 

“No I know,” Stiles pushed off the edge of the counter. “I just—giving someone your real name is a big deal. There’s got to be literally _anyone_ else you’d want to have that kind of power over you.” 

Derek stood up and walked over to Stiles, staring him right in the eye. “No,” he said steadily. “There’s not.” 

“But—“ 

“Stiles,” Derek cut him off. He looked like he wanted to say something, something important, but he just shook his head and stepped back. “Just…brew the tea.” 

Stiles swallowed hard and nodded. “Ok,” he turned away and busied himself with the kettle. “You should head up stairs. It’ll be a few minutes.” 

Derek’s fingers twitched. He wanting to reach out, to assure Stiles that he wanted to do this, that he _wanted_ to Stiles to know. But he couldn’t. So he turned away and walked up to Stiles’s room, leaving him to brew the tea. 

Deaton said that the tea would be put him in a dream like state. Stiles called it a vision quest, he kind of liked the sound of that better. Either way, he needed to be somewhere comfortable when he drank it. Derek glanced at Stiles’s computer chair, it would do, but Derek couldn’t keep his eyes from drifting to Stiles’s bed. 

_Fuck it_ , Derek thought, pulling off his jacket and tossing it over the computer chair. He lowered himself to the edge of Stiles’s mattress and laid back, his head hitting the pillows with a soft thud. Derek closed his eyes, drawing in a deep breath, letting the concentrated scent of _Stiles_ settle in his lungs and relax him. 

As much as he knew they needed to do this, as much as he actually wanted Stiles to do this, he was still scared. The last time he’d let a human have that kind of power over him, he’d lost everything. But that wasn’t what scared him, he knew Stiles wasn’t Kate, knew he would never do to Derek what Kate did. What scared him, what _really_ scared him, was that he wasn’t scared. The idea of Stiles knowing his true name, having the power to control Derek , _completely,_ right at his fingertips, didn’t even phase Derek. 

Derek could hear him now, down in the kitchen, getting a mug out of the cabinet, his breathing even and steady even as his heart bounced around inside his ribs. Derek knew this was a lot to ask him, this knowledge was a lot to place on someone’s shoulders. But he also knew if anyone could handle it, Stiles could. 

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Stiles grabbed a mug out of the cabinet and set it on the counter, digging through the back of the utensil drawer until he pulled out his mom’s old tea infuser. He grabbed the bag of leaves Deaton had given him out of his pocket and tried to empty it into the infuser but his hands were shaking too hard. 

Stiles took a deep breath and clenched his fists around the edge of the counter, trying to force himself to calm down. When Deaton had told them that Deucalion had the power to get inside their heads, to _control_ them, they’d realized pretty quickly that if he got to Derek, they would all be screwed. 

_“Not if we had a way to override Deucalion’s hold,” Stiles had blurted without thinking and all eyes turned to him expectantly. “Does anyone know your true name?” Stiles asked Derek._

Turns out Derek didn’t even know his true name. It wasn’t something you learned until you came of age. There would have been a ceremony. He would have gone on his vision quest and been given his name. Derek would have chosen a member of his family to guide him, to hear his name and hold it safe for him. 

But then the fire happened and Derek’s family died before he could have his ceremony. He’d never even seen one. Laura had chosen Peter to be her name keeper. Which is probably how he managed to kill her before he’d fully healed, by using her name, _controlling_ her. He’d probably forced her to just stand there as he slashed her throat. There would have been nothing she could have done to fight it. 

Stiles felt his chest tighten at the thought, the idea that Derek was trusting him enough not to do that, was putting himself at Stiles’s mercy, _literally_ placing his life in Stiles’s hands. He tried to suck in a breath but he couldn’t. It was just too much all of a sudden; what if Stiles couldn’t handle it, what if something happened, if Stiles wasn’t strong enough. He felt his vision blacking out around the edges and closed his eyes tight. 

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

_An eight year old Stiles looked up at his mother, standing in front of him in the clearing. Her long white skirt blew around her legs as her hair twisted and turned in the wind. She held a hand out in front of her, palm up and winked at Stiles. “Listen,” she told him softly before she toke a deep breath, opened her mouth, and started to sing._

_Sounds unlike any Stiles had ever heard before rolled of her tongue. It wasn’t English, that much he knew, and it didn’t sound like the Polish his mother spoke when his father wasn’t around. The words, if they were even words, were eerie and melodic and Stiles could feel them echoing around the trees, vibrating against his skin._

_Stiles caught her eye and she nodded over his shoulder. He turned and squinted, catching sight of a small, bright, light just past the tree line. As the notes of his mother’s song rose and fell the light got closer and closer, darting this way and that, spinning in circles until it came to land gently in the outstretched palm of his mother’s hand._

_Her song cut off abruptly as she closed her fingers over the light and smiled down at Stiles._

_“What is it?” he asked, standing up on his tiptoes to get a better look._

_“A pixie,” Eleanor said, opening her fingers slowly so that Stiles could see better._

_He looked down, his breath catching as he took in the perfect tiny little body. The light seemed to be coming from the long almost translucent, wings that fluttered rapidly as she hovered just above Eleanor’s palm._

_  
“How did you get her to come?” Stiles asked in wonder._

_“All names have power,” Eleanor told him. “Even yours kochanie.”_

_“Is that why you made it so hard to say?” Stiles asked and Eleanor chuckled, ruffling his hair._

_“Perhaps,” she smiled mischievously. “To know someone’s name, their **true** name, it is a gift, one that you must cherish for all time. But it is also a responsibility kochanie, something precious that you must guard with your life.” Eleanor dropped her hand to her side and the pixie stayed floating in the air between them. “It is something you must never abuse, a trust you must never break. Do you understand?” _

_Stiles nodded his head rapidly and the pixie darted forward toward him, hovering just an inch from Stiles’s face. She tilted her head as if studying him, then extended her arm, the ends of her fingers brushing along the tip of Stiles’s nose. He laughed, he couldn’t help it, it tickled and she answered with a tittering laugh of her own. Stiles smiled up at his mother, big and bright and Eleanor reached out, running a finger on the edge of the pixie’s wing._

_“Thank you,” she whispered and the pixie laughed again before darting of, back toward the tree line._

_::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::_

The whistling of the kettle brought Stiles back to himself and he sucked in a deep breath, and then another, and then another, until he was breathing normally. He pried his fingers from the edge of the counter and grabbed the kettle off the stove, pouring water into the mug and dropping in the leaves. 

He tidied up after himself, giving the tea time to steep before taking a deep breath and turning to the stairs. He could do this. He _would_ do this for Derek. Because Derek was trusting him with something precious, and Stiles refused to let him down. 

When he got to his room, Derek was lying back on his bed, his head buried in Stiles’s pillow, one knee hitched up and cocked to the side. His breathing was even but shallow and Stiles smiled a little, walking to the bed and setting the mug on the side table. 

“Comfortable?” Stiles asked and Derek hummed before turning his head and opening his eyes. He pushed himself up in a sitting position as Stiles lowered himself to the mattress by Derek’s hip. “I wasn’t sure if you took milk or sugar and I didn’t know how it would affect the whole magical part so I just left it black.” 

“That’s fine,” Derek assured him, his voice was scratchy and tired and Stiles wondered if maybe he’d actually fallen asleep for a minute there. 

Stiles picked up the mug and held it out. Derek’s fingers brushed against Stile’s as he reached for it but Stiles didn’t let go. “Are you sure?” Stiles asked him one more time. 

Derek let his thumb rub over Stiles’s knuckles softly. “I trust you,” Derek said pointedly and Stiles nodded, letting go of the mug, because Derek had never actually said that before. He’d implied it, he’d shown Stiles he trusted him through his actions, but he’d never come out and said it before like that. 

Derek gulped the whole cup down. It had to be hot, but it didn’t seem to phase him. He licked his lips when he finished, making a small face at the taste before holding the mug back out for Stiles. “How long do you thi—“ his whole body went rigid, his eyes rolling back into his head before he went completely limp and collapsed against the pillows. 

“Not long,” Stiles smiled shakily, pulling the mug from Derek’s grip. 

Deaton didn’t say how long it would take and Stiles was settled in for a wait, but less than five minutes later, Derek’s lips opened and a soft song spilled out into the room. It wasn’t as melodic as he remembered the pixie’s name being. It was a bit harsher, a bit stronger, a bit…rougher, but still beautiful in its own way and somehow 100% Derek. It came in starts and stops, Derek giving up the different parts to Stiles as they came to him, but when it was finished Stiles knew the whole thing would string together perfectly. 

He’d been afraid that he wouldn’t be able to remember, that he’d forget it before Derek even finished, but there was a part of him that knew he would never forget this, would still be able to recite it in 50 years, the same part of him that knew he could go out into the woods right now and call the pixie to him, even though he’d only heard his mother call her name once. 

When Derek finished with the last note, his body sagged in relief, his head lolling to the side as he let out a deep shuddering breath. Stiles reached out a shaky hand, brushing the hair off of Derek’s forehead and then got up and let him sleep. 

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Derek woke up slowly. The sky was dark outside Stiles’s window and the only thing he could hear in the house was the sound of keys clicking rapidly as Stiles typed up something on his computer. Derek allowed himself a moment to observe. Stiles was alternating between two separate books and a pile of notes that were spread out on his desk, his eyes skimming rapidly over everything and he never stopped typing. 

Derek couldn’t remember the last time he’d slept so deeply. He stretched languidly, his muscles hadn’t felt this loose in years and he was unable to stop the soft moan from escaping his lips. Stiles stopped typing right away and spun his chair around. 

“You’re awake,” he smiled and Derek raised his eyebrows, because, obviously. 

“How long was I out?” Derek grumbled, his throat scratchy and raw and even Stiles winced at the sound. 

“About 6 hours,” He stood up. “Do you want some more tea?” Derek blanched. “Regular tea,” Stiles corrected. “For your throat?” 

“I’ll be fine,” Derek brushed him off. 

“It’s no big deal,” Stiles smiled. “I’ve already got the kettle out.” 

“Ok,” Derek nodded and followed Stiles down to the kitchen. He made two mugs this time, pouring a generous amount of milk and sugar in his cup and dumping about two tablespoons of honey in Derek’s before passing it over. Derek stared at the honey questioningly. 

“It’ll help your throat,” Stiles said and Derek nodded before taking a long deep sip. It did sooth his throat when he swallowed and he offered Stiles a soft smile of encouragement. 

They sat in silence, nursing their tea and Derek was surprised at how comfortable he was. He felt like he shouldn’t be, like he should want to be as far away as he could get, like he should feel vulnerable around Stiles now. But he didn’t. Not even a little. 

“What did you see?” Stiles asked after a few minutes, running his index finger along the rim of his mug. “I mean you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. Obviously, I was just curious.” 

Derek opened his mouth then closed it, pausing to think. “I don’t remember a lot. I saw my family.” Derek said and Stiles’s head shot up. 

He remembered being in his house. The house like it was before the fire. He was in his room and then suddenly Laura was standing there in front of him. He remembered feeling like all the air had been knocked out of him as she reached out and grabbed his wrist. A strange sound came out of her mouth, almost like a song and though Derek didn’t understand what she was saying, he understood the meaning as she named him; _brother._

When she finished she’d turned and walked away and he’d followed her desperately only to run into Peter on the stairs. The Peter from before the fire. He’d placed a hand against Derek’s chest and sang his own song naming Derek s _urvivor._

He found his father in the hall. He curled a hand around Derek’s neck and called him _fighter._ Derek almost couldn’t make himself go into the kitchen because he knew what he’d find there. And he’d been right. His mother was at the sink, humming and doing dishes and she turned to him when he walked in. She smiled, big and bright and walked around the table to him. She leaned down and dropped a kiss to his temple, singing her song into his skin naming him _son._

That was too much for him to handle and he ran out of the house only to stop when he saw Scott standing on the porch. He stared at Derek seriously for a minute before clasping his upper arm and giving his name; _leader._ Derek pulled away from him, because his Scott, the _real_ Scott had made it very clear that Derek was not his leader. 

He headed for the woods, wanting this to be over, _needing_ this to be over, when a strange woman stood in his path. “ _Shhh_ ,” she called out, soothing him as she stepped forward and brought a hand to his check, _“The names are all a part of you. Some of them who you were, some of them who you are, and some of them who you will become. Have faith.”_ She told him before giving him his final name; _protector._

“You don’t know who she was?” Stiles asked and Derek looked up at him startled, he’d almost forgotten Stiles was there. 

“She felt familiar,” Derek said trying to remember her. “She had long red hair, and soft green eyes. She called me something. I’d never heard it before. Kot…caught…something.” Derek frowned. 

Stiles stiffened across the table from him. “Kochanie?” he asked in a whisper and Derek nodded. “It’s polish,” he swallowed hard. “It means ‘darling’. My mom used to—my mom used to call me that.” He set his mug down and walked into the living room then came back in holding a picture frame. He stared at it for a second before handing it to Derek. “Is that her?” he asked, his voice barely a whisper. 

Derek stared down at the red headed woman in the picture. There was a huge smile on her face, her arms wrapped around much younger Stiles. “Yeah,” Derek looked up at Stiles setting the picture frame on the table. “That’s her.” 

“Wow, ok,” Stiles sunk into the chair beside Derek, “That’s, uh, I’m not really sure what to do with that.” Stiles admitted and Derek just nodded. Because honestly neither was he. He had no idea why he saw Stiles’s mom in his vision quest, or why she would give him the name of protector. But he made a promise to himself right then and there that he’d live up to it. He would do anything in his power to protect Stiles for her, because she couldn’t anymore. 

“Thank you,” Stiles whispered and Derek looked over at him confused. “For trusting me with this. I promise I’ll never use it against you, I’d die before I let that happen. You know that right?” He said sincerely. 

Derek wanted to tell Stiles that would never happen, that Derek wouldn’t let it. He wanted to tell Stiles that he wasn’t allowed to do that, to die for Derek. He wanted to tell Stiles that he didn’t need to promise anything. But he didn’t. Instead he reached out and slid his hand over Stiles’s and squeezed softly. 

“I know,” He said instead, showing Stiles that Derek had faith in him. 

“Good,” Stiles smiled, flipping his hand over and sliding his fingers between Derek’s. 

**Author's Note:**

> Here comes the [tumblr](http://www.bella8876.tumblr.com/).


End file.
